


I see you

by ALCzysz17



Series: Smut Week 2018 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Day 5: Watching Me, Day 6: Someone Could See, Day 7: We Shouldn't, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake Flirting, Female Masturbation, Intentional Voyeurism, Jealous Jon, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Male Masturbation, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sansa POV, Sansa and Jon are Cousins, To Make Jon Jealous, Vaginal Fingering, Wicked Sansa, jonsa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: As Sansa is lost in her thoughts walking to the heart tree to pray to the old gods, she comes across Jon near the edge of a hot spring as she turns around. His back is towards her and he looks to be...whittling? Sansa is supremely surprised to find out what he really is doing and down the rabbit hole of voyeurism she goes. The farther she goes, the more she notices Jon as more than just her cousin and the more she learns of sexual release.Ch.1 - Day 5: Watching MeCh.2 - Day 6: Anyone Could SeeCh.3 - Day 7: We Shouldn't





	1. Watching Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently pre-writing up plots for these prompts and not doing them is going to be the trend for this year of Smut Week. Every day I had a different oneshot planned and every one of them has switched into something different. 
> 
> Day 1 - supposed to be modern au skinny dipping smut.  
> Day 2 - Supposed to be extended longer into them turning eighteen then sex without all the touching and stuff.  
> Day 3 - supposed to be modern au where Jon and Sansa agree to remain celibate until marriage.  
> Day 4 - modern au where Sansa release denies Jon as that thing he likes, also FWB.  
> Day 5 - also modern au, Sansa allows her foster brother, Jon to watch her while she masturbates.  
> Day 6 - Canon-Div. Petyr catches Jon and Sansa fucking in the godswood through his eyes (still wanna do that as a stand alone).  
> And Day 7 - We Shouldn't - Adultery where both Jon and Sansa are in loveless marriages with Val and Tyrion whom do not want children, so they use each other to get what they want.
> 
> I am doing none of those, instead the last two days are apart of this story as the idea struck me while writing the first chapter where the new idea for this story struck me at work earlier. Inspiration is a fickle bitch. Anywho, I do hope y'all enjoy this story for the final prompts of smut week! 
> 
> Enjoy!! ^_~

 

 

Sansa was feeling jumpy as she moved around her chambers, fixing whatever she could put her hands on, be it her furs on her bed, the knickknacks on her dresser, and even the books on her writing desk. Her nerves were running wild inside her, her stomach feeling extremely queasy as the nervous energy made her pace. Everything had to be perfect though, absolutely perfect.

‘Perfection is an unreachable goal, child.’ Sansa could hear old nan telling her in her head even though the poor old woman had been dead for five years now. Doesn’t me I can’t try, Sansa remembers herself retorting back. She knew that was impossible, that no amount of trying could get her to perfection, but she was so nervous, and she needed something to do or otherwise, she’d lose her courage and chicken out.

Tonight, was the night.

The night that Sansa finally pushed the boundaries between her and her cousin. Her cousin Jon. The thought of him brought a pleasant flush to her cheeks and strange tingling feelings running through her nerves on top of the anxiety. She just needed to keep her head about her, be brave like Robb always was, be clever like Bran always was and be audacious like Arya always was. Maybe even a little wild like Rickon always was, then again, the plan she had in mind was plenty wild for someone like her.

It was definitely outside her comfort zone, but most things worth gaining took a bit of discomfort, or at least that was what her father always told her. Sansa could handle a little discomfort though, she had the last few weeks, what was yet another night of it?

Sansa sighed deeply, forcing herself to try and rein in the tension and anxiety inside her as she sat down on her bed. Honestly, if she hadn’t caught Jon at such a bad time then none of this would be happening. She’d be the same old Sansa had she not walked in the godswood that day, had she not come across Jon that day…

**Four weeks earlier…**

Sansa had just finished embroidering her first direwolf on a dress of hers, the intricate stitching coming out straight and beautiful. All the other woman cooed and awed at her work, all but her sister who had scoffed at her work, a pout on her lips. When she was younger, Sansa would have gotten upset with her sister, calling her out for her obvious jealousy. But as a woman of six and ten, Sansa was above those actions, though it helped to know that Arya only reacted that way because she wasn’t any good at the work. So, she spent the most of the afternoon helping her younger sister embroider a direwolf herself and though it looked less than perfect, it was still very good and brought a smile to Arya’s face.

Feeling so good about her good deed, she decided to pray at the heart tree, hoping the old gods would smile down upon her good deed and look out for her in the near future. Already they were receiving questions of a betrothal on her account, Sansa felt excited yet scared and honestly, she wasn’t sure how to feel at all. Before her father went to King’s Landing to be Hand to the King, she would have dreamt of marrying a fine knight, or even the Prince, Joffrey Baratheon himself. There had at one point been a whisper of a possible betrothal between them, but when her mother put her foot down about not allowing her father to take them with him, that had fallen to the wayside.

Sansa found that she wasn’t too upset either, not after hearing of the cruelty that Prince Joffrey was known for. Robb commenting that she dodged that swipe of a sword by a strand of hair. It was during those years that she started to shadow her mother, learning more and more what it took to maintain a household and take care of the people in your care. More and more she left the fantasy world that she indulged in behind and entering the realms of reality, and reality was truly harsh.

Yet as she closed her eyes to her rose-colored spectacles, she opened her eyes to the many others around her, including her sister and her cousin. With Arya, Sansa learned that what made her sister different also made her special. Her ability to find amusement anywhere and connect so well with others of a lower status so easily was astounding to her, it brought Sansa to be nicer to the servants that helped their daily lives, to talk with and understand them better, much like their father did.

Then there was Jon.

It wasn’t that she never liked him, mostly he just never fit in her fantasy world. He was an imperfection in the perfect world in her mind and when she truly opened her eyes, Sansa realized how wrong she was to think of him as such. The only imperfection Jon had was his unfortunate status as a bastard of their late aunt Lyanna with his father an unknown. Otherwise, he was quiet, thoughtful, withdrawn yet shrewd and keen-minded. He was also kind, if not a bit of a know-it-all, but Sansa had not been any better herself.

Jon had always been kind to her, even when she was standoffish towards him and aside from amending her relationship with her sister, she made sure to make an amends with him as well. Instead of being forward as she was with Arya, apologizing for not understanding her sister and talking things through before working towards a better friendship together, Sansa decided on a slower approach with Jon.

She started to acknowledge him more, greeting him with a bright smile and asking about his wellbeing, even pursuing some conversation or small talk. It was gradual, and it took a bit of pestering at times to get him to talk with her more, but eventually, they got to a point where things flowed better and for that, she was most grateful. It meant that outings to the Wolfswood and Wintertown included them all, and there was not a hint of awkwardness to be seen either. As her mother had stated to her, once she had started to shadow her mother during the day, this was the height of her childhood and sometimes the friends you make now are ones you’ll need to depend on once you are older.

Her father and King Robert was the example her mother used a bunch and even her aunt Lyanna and her father’s friendship with Howland Reed of House Reed of the Neck. In this day and age, friendship and loyalty meant everything almost as much as honor and duty. Sansa took those words to heart, realizing that her strengths were her sister’s weaknesses and Arya’s strengths were her weaknesses and together they could have each other’s backs. She also realized the same could be said for her other siblings and her cousin.

Sansa blinked as she realized she had taken a wrong turn at some point, lost in her musings as she was and now she was closer to the broken tower than the heart tree. It did not matter though, the day was beautiful with a soft breeze and the sun was warm, warmer than most days, so extending her walk further was rather okay with her. Smiling, she turned around and started back the way she was coming from.

As she worked her way through Sansa came to an abrupt stop at the sound of grunting. Frowning, she glanced around herself then heard the noise once more along with what sounded like a groan. Fearing that someone was hurt, Sansa followed the sound off the beaten path. She found herself coming upon the edge of the large hot spring in the godswood and there with his back turned towards her was Jon. Sansa glanced around to see no one else and when she went to speak, to call out his name in question she heard the grunting again.

It was coming from Jon.

Sansa approached a tree, placing a hand against the bark as she peered around it at her cousin. What could he possibly be doing to create such a sound? She noted that his right arm was moving, as though his hand was going back and forth, maybe he was whittling something? Jon grunted then groaned rather loudly, startling Sansa and sending a shiver down her spine. Then he turned to the side.

She took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes widening so much they hurt as her mouth hung open in absolute shock. Jon wasn’t in pain and he certainly wasn’t whittling either. There her cousin was with his breeches hanging off his hips and his-his-his manhood erect in his right hand as he stroked it back and forth rapidly. Sansa quickly flung herself back, placing her back against the tree she was leaning against while trying her best to contend with what she had witnessed.

The feelings of disgust and mortification flashed over her, a cold sensation washing down her face and chest. Why would he do such a thing in the woods? Wasn’t such a thing done in private? He had been by himself, her mind countered and obviously, he hadn’t realized he had company, otherwise she was certain he would have stopped and been embarrassed, much as she was now. The noises he made brought shivers, goosebumps and raised the hair on her arms. Sansa quickly brought her hands up to her ears, closing them over to keep the sounds of Jon pleasuring himself out.

The thought of leaving, running away from what she came upon, but Sansa wished to not be seen and there was no way he would not notice her now. So, she endured for a few minutes, lifting her right hand off her ear periodically to listen and see if he was still at it. Regretfully, it took four times of lifting her hand before he seemed to be finished as there were no noises anymore. Sansa pursed her lips together then slowly turned around, peering slowly around the tree to see Jon leaving the area.

She waited a few minutes more, rehearsing the sigils of the Great Houses of the North to keep from thinking about what exactly Jon had been doing then and only when she was certain he was long gone, she left her spot. Sansa immediately went to the heart tree, dropping to her knees so abruptly that the impact hurt before she bowed her head and started to pray for what she had seen.

Is this what her good deed got her? Or for having her head up in the air and not paying attention to her surroundings? Sansa figured it was the latter than the former, though she stayed a good ten minutes praying that she would not come across Jon doing that once more and hoping for no awkwardness on her part either.

Supper for her was an awkward occasion though. She was withdrawn, her eyes downcast as everyone talked and ate. Her mother eyed her carefully and even Arya was poking her side, asking if she was feeling okay. Eventually, Sansa pushed her barely touched plate away, stating she was tired and wished to rest early that night. Her mother let her go though she asked Sansa if she was feeling ill before she could leave. She smiled, reassuring her mother before leaving the table and Great Hall behind.

The next few days were terrible for her. Every time she spoke with Jon, she would flush brightly and stutter over her words like a halfwit, Hodor could hold a better conversation than she could at that point. Jon just looked more and more worried after each occurrence, asking about her well-being each time. Sansa also had a terrible time sleeping at night, her mind going back to that moment over and over again. It was an endless loop, repeating constantly. Even during the day, she found gaze drawing downward towards Jon’s cock, hidden by his breeches and that only made conversation between them worse as if that were possible.

Sansa tried everything to will away the memory burned into her brain, helping her mother with her chores, embroidering harder and harder pieces and even spending time watching her brothers and Arya practice swordplay (much to her mother’s exasperation) and still, nothing helped, nothing kept the memory at bay. All she could think of was what his manhood had looked like, gripped so tightly in his fist and the noises he made.

Something had to give though. Evidently, it ended up being rather unladylike and improper for her, but it was the only thing she could think of that would help.

For some strange reason, Sansa had a morbid curiosity of Jon’s body, his male anatomy to be specific and the only way to make it stop is by indulging that curiosity, or at least, so she told herself. So, Sansa found herself walking back to the edge of the hot spring, the specific spot she had found Jon near the same time. Actually, this was the third time she was here. The last two times she had come here, he wasn’t around, and she realized her mistake when she thought of the time of day.

It had been later afternoon, an hour and a half before supper was to start. This time she came around that timing, hoping Jon had a routine of sorts for this…thing he did for himself. Sansa swallowed drily as she walked through the woods. By the way, he seemed so relaxed and content to do such a thing out in the wilderness told her that he must do it often enough and at that time to know that he would not be interrupted. Then again, she could be giving Jon more credit and it was just a random occurrence to never be seen again.

Sansa felt sick to her stomach as she realized that she was hoping it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. If she were to be honest with herself, she was truly just curious about the male anatomy. It was quite normal at her age to be, many of the lower status girls talked about kissing and such, even sexual relations, so it had to be normal. But was it normal among the higher status girls, such as herself? Sansa only had Jeyne to compare and they both thought similar, but then her sister never thought about kissing. Anytime Sansa wished to speak about it, Arya would make disgusting noises with her mouth, telling her to stop being gross and little Beth was only a year or so younger than Arya. She would grow red and become shy when she and Jeyne talked about boys much less anything beyond kissing.

She wondered if there was something wrong with her, maybe a fever that took over the mind and made her think like this? Maybe it was just her? Sansa stopped to breath in deeply, trying to center her train of thought before she proceeded through the woods. The edge of the hot spring came to her view and with it, Jon. She moved as quietly as she could, coming right back up to the same tree as before. Her heart was pounding heavily inside her chest, anxiety bubbling and twisting inside her stomach and yet a sense of anticipation came over her.

Sansa peered around the tree, catching sight of Jon once more. His breeches were pulled down further this time along with his smallclothes, affording her the sight of his bum. There was a prickling feeling going through her body as she watched, noting that his right hand was moving like before, meaning he had his cock in hand. Sansa licked her dry lips, dreading how much she wished he’d turn to the side again and like he heard her wish, Jon twisted towards the side.

The sight of his hand curled tightly around his manhood was much more intriguing than it had been the first time, only days ago for her. The skin on his cock moved with his hand, folding up over his cock’s head that was red and liquid dripping slightly from the tip. Sansa realized she was having shortness of breath, breathing more quickly almost matching the way Jon breathed in and out rapidly as he worked his cock. She glanced up at his eyes, seeing that he had them closed to the world around with his mouth slightly open to release the grunts and groans of his pleasure.

Strange tingling sensations ran through her body. Sansa curled her hands harder against the bark, embedding it into her palms to will away the peculiar feelings. His grip looked painful, but the expression of pure bliss on his face spoke otherwise. Sansa wondered how it felt for him, what sensations of pleasure he was feeling as he stroked his cock? Her face bloomed into a blush at the dirty thoughts racing through her mind. Half of her wanted to leave, that she had gotten her fill for the morbid curiosity that had been ruling her life for the last few days, yet her other half wished nothing more than to see him finish, to witness her cousin hit his completion.

That half was winning out as Sansa remained put. Jon groaned deeply inside his chest, his top row of teeth bearing down on his bottom lip. His fisted hand seemed to move faster and faster upon his cock, almost wrenching his poor anatomy and still, he seemed to be locked in pure bliss. He grunted twice then released his bottom lip in a loud moan, choking slightly as he hit his completion, his peak.

Sansa watched mesmerized by the sight of his cock shooting out his seed. Jon continued to fist his cock, jerking with his hand movement as continued strings of seed flowed out the tip of his cock. A chill stroked her back, bursts of heat sprinkling on her face and body like hot rain, all of it swelling down to her abdomen. Her breathing became shallow and light, transfixed on her cousin completely.

Jon slowed his strokes before stopping altogether, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his eyes blinking as he came back to awareness. He glanced down at the mess he made on the ground then at his softly limping cock. Sansa was intrigued by the way it seemed to shrink before her very eyes; odd. Jon pulled out a cloth from his pocket, wiping off his hand of his seed and his cock before pulling his smallclothes back on then his breeches.

Sansa whipped back around, listening intently as he got himself together then left, walking towards the heart tree and leaving her behind. She breathed in deeply, holding her breath for a few seconds then released it softly through her mouth. Still, she felt like she could hardly catch her breath, her mind going over what happened in intimate detail. An unwilling moan slip passed her lips before she clamped them shut, giving herself a hard shake of her head.

It’s done now, her morbid curiosity should be sated and now she should be able to function like a normal human being and interact with Jon as though nothing had happened right?

Wrong.

Sansa found herself going back to the spot the next day, wishing and wanting to see Jon get himself off, finding that he did have a routine. She came back the next day after that and even the next day after that. Each time she was left breathless, aching in a way she had never felt before and wishing to see him do it again. She realized this was getting out of control, that it was becoming sinful with the way she came out here to watch him like a voyeur; disgusting and sinful.

After witnessing his sexual act each day, Sansa would travel to the heart tree to pray for her very soul as she seemed to be corrupted. How else could it be explained as to why she had the urge to watch Jon stroke his cock? Why did she get those strange tingly feelings running through her nerves when she watched him work himself to a peak? Or the jolting spark in her lower belly when his seed would burst forth from his cock? She was corrupted, her soul tainted and dark. It was the only explanation she could give herself.

She thought about going to her mother, or even Septa Mordane about it, wishing for guidance. Yet the thought of explaining to either about her sinful act of watching her cousin fist his manhood only brought her more shame. The thought of her mother looking at her like she was deranged and the fear that Septa Mordane might suggest giving her to the Seven and becoming a Septa herself kept her from asking either of them. She already felt dirty and wicked, but that didn’t mean she wished to miss out on romance and marriage and babies either.

Sansa decided that it was all in her hands and she had to handle it herself. And by handling it herself, she meant by trying to ignore the feelings and urges to see her cousin in the throes of pleasure.

It was harder than she thought though.

She tried to hold herself back from leaving to the godswood, but Sansa started to get antsy as the time grew closer and closer and before she could stop, she was already heading to Jon’s spot. As she walked her thoughts centered around Jon, finding so many things about him different now. Had he always been so comely? Had she always wanted to touch his dark curly hair? Why did his bum seem so…delicious to her? Had his voice always been so deep and thick with a Northern accent, and why was she only noticing now how much she liked his voice?

Even his rare smiles made her heart skip a beat and bring a flush to her cheeks. Sansa could hardly understand what she was feeling, much less explain it, even to herself. Once more it was like another set of spectacles were lifted off her eyes, but it only had to do with Jon. It was like she was seeing him for the very first time and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wasn’t seeing him as a boy or even her cousin either.

Sansa was seeing Jon Snow as a man, fully grown and strong.

The realization made her pause and gasp, placing a hand to her chest as the epiphany came over her. The revelation was surprising, but the more Sansa thought about it, the easier it was for her to contend with the idea. It seemed so simple, so obvious, really. There weren’t many boys her age, Jon being only three years older and Theon a bit older than that, and any other boys worked in the castle, or were much older than her, or even younger than her. With no other prospects around, it was practically inevitable that she’d develop a crush on either Jon or Theon, though Jon seemed to be the safer of the two options.

Sansa knew all about Theon’s escapades.

And really, Jon was her cousin, so it was hardly appalling to develop such a crush on him; although developing it through peeking kind of negated the shocking portion. Still, the realization of her feelings brought a smile to her lips and an even greater urge to see him.

Sansa made it just as Jon was loosening his breeches. Excitement bubbled in her veins, anticipation buzzing underneath her skin and heat centering at her lower belly. She found that she liked watching him undress the most, the building anticipation of seeing his bum then his cock, erect and begging to be touched. Sansa bit down on her lip as the urge to moan at the sight of him came over her.

There was a throbbing between her legs, one that had developed more and more as she came here each day to watch Jon. It was so insistent and squeezing her thighs together hardly relieved her of the sudden ache there, but when she did it brought about little jolts of pleasure. It would be wicked of her to even think it much less try touching herself while Jon was. It was depraved, but really, was it anymore depraved than what she was doing now?

Jon moaned loudly, cupping his balls first and massaging them so gently, his head lolling to the side in pleasure. The apex of her thighs gave out a hard throb as she watched him, squeezing her thighs together to try and alleviate the ache and pressure. Really, it did nothing but bring forth more for her. Jon moved his hand up to lightly run his fingers along the shaft of his cock, mumbling words underneath his breath as he did.

She figured he did that because he was imagining something or someone with him. Sansa wondered who he imagined it was touching him? There were many women at Winterfell, much lower in status that would not mind marrying a bastard of House Stark. The thought though brought a burning rage inside her, the imaginary woman that Jon thought about as he pleasured himself made her want to rip a chunk of hair from her head. It wouldn’t take much to find out whom this woman was. Surely Robb knew, he and Jon were practically inseparable, well except for these occasions that is.

Another mumbling of words, unintelligible to her ears followed by a deep groan as he started to harden his grip around his cock, forcing the skin to overlap his cock’s head. That insistent throbbing continued for her, seemingly begging for attention though her eyes were more preoccupied with watching Jon. Sansa shifted her feet around, squeezing her thighs once more in hopes of abating the heat between, but it didn’t.

It got worse.

Jon grunted as his pace increased, his lips moving over what looked to be a single word; a name. Sansa bit down on her bottom lip sharply, going back and forth with herself. Only when he groaned loudly, she decided to throw caution to the wind. If she was wicked and depraved, then she mind as well relish in it.

Quickly, she tugged at her skirts, pulling them well above her thighs then without second-guessing her hasty decision, Sansa slid her right hand into her smallclothes. She encountered her wiry red hair on her mound then followed the slope down where she touched the lips of her cunt. It was already moist down there though she hadn’t peed herself. Her cheeks burned as she realized it was her woman’s juices, the very juices that helped during coupling. She found it odd that she was producing them while watching Jon, but then what he did excited her, aroused her.

That was it, she was aroused.

Sansa sucked in air through her nose as she felt around her folds, tracing the slit of her entrance, searching for that pleasure point that ached. When she pulled her fingers back up, she came across a fleshy nub that responded to her touch, jolting in a spark of pleasure. Sansa released her lip to purse them together as she brushed the nub again and gained another spark of pleasure. Her eyes closed at the feeling, rubbing that spot again and again.

She forced her eyes open to watch Jon fist his cock, lost in his own imaginings with his eyes tightly shut. Sansa imagined moaning loudly, gaining Jon’s attention as she pleasured herself. She imagined moaning his name, rubbing and circling her nub like so. She imagined him being shocked, only at first then approaching her to watch as she brought herself to completion. Sansa bit the inside of her cheek, tilting her head into the tree bark as she put more pressure on her nub, rubbing over top of the fleshy button harder and harder.

She wondered what he would really do? Would he be disgusted with her? Would he be in awe of her audacious behavior? Would he help her, touch her, kiss her? Sansa took a sharp intake of breath, audibly huffing it out as she felt the pressure in her abdomen grow stronger and stronger. The image of Jon sticking his hand into her smallclothes, setting her own hand aside to finish her off was such a powerful image for her. Her hand was starting to burn from exertion, but she was so close though.

His name was mouthed continuously by her lips, imagining Jon hovering over her. One hand against the bark of the tree, his other working her towards her peak and his lips pressed wetly against hers.

Jon grunted harshly, drawing her attention enough to open her eyes. He was pumping his hand fast and hard, he was nearing his peak. Sansa realized she wanted to hit hers the same time he did, she wanted to feel like they were both touching each other, bringing each other such sweet pleasure. She rubbed harder, making tighter circles while her eyes were pinned to the way Jon fisted his cock.

So close, Sansa thought desperately, I am so close.

She could feel it, she was just on the edge of that cliff and looking down, ready to take the plunge. She just needed one more push, one last push to set it all off.

Jon groaned deeply, like a roar of a beast, like a roar of a dragon. His head tilted back then he moaned loudly into the trees and foliage around them, he moaned with his deep, Northern voice, he moaned a name.

“Sansa!” Jon moaned, jerking his hips forward, working through his powerful climax.

Sansa gasped and like a snap of a string, she was sent plunging over the edge. She flipped herself around, bearing her back against the tree as sparks and jolts singed through her nerve endings. Her hand kept rubbing in circles, prolonging the effects of her peak. Her legs shook, becoming unbalanced with her weight while the rest of her body quivered with the strength of her first peak ever. Slowly she slipped down the tree, landing on her bum on the ground as she tried to catch her breath.

There was the taste of blood in her mouth, her teeth biting harshly into her poor cheek to keep from shouting. Her smallclothes was also soaked, wet from the slick of her woman’s juices, wet from watching Jon and touching herself. Wet because of Jon. She could hear him now, gathering himself. He was probably wiping his hand and limping cock now then he would slip his smallclothes over top with his breeches. It only took him five minutes to pick himself up from his peak then he would be gone, and she would be alone.

As she caught her breath, gasping for air really, her thoughts traveled to the name he moaned at the height of his pleasure. Her name. Sansa felt slightly blindsided by the announcement, but there was also a pleasant warmth drifting through her being. Jon had been thinking of her, she was the woman he imagined touching him. Sansa felt a sense of giddy happiness come over her.

It was then, in her lethargic mind that she concocted a plan, a crazy plan that the Sansa Stark before all this would never do. A plan that no one should really do. A plan that would get Jon right where she wanted him.

Sansa breathed out slowly, coming back to herself as she remembered that day only a week earlier. She spent the following days preparing herself mentally while also trying to figure out a way to get her plan to work. The idea was to have Jon come to her bedchambers, she would leave her door cracked open for him and when he would peek in, he would find her in the throes of pleasuring herself and moaning his name.

If he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her then maybe they could have each other. The idea was crazy, the fact that she was going through with the plan was even crazier. Sansa had spent the week going back and forth over if she should do it or not, but there was no turning back now. She had left a note in Jon’s chambers to come see her after supper, that they needed to talk. That would draw him here and then she would be in her nightgown sans smallclothes and bringing herself to peak with his name on her lips.

It truly was a crazy plan, but honestly, Sansa was feeling rather desperate and very, very aroused.

It was then she heard the echo of footsteps on the stone floor. Sansa sucked in a shaky breath, arranging herself on her bed while tugging up her nightgown skirt to her thighs. She could feel the tension in her shoulders and anxiety underneath her skin, but beneath all of that was sharp anticipation. A soft knock came to her door, a deep mutter of her name and…

It was showtime…

 

 


	2. Anyone Could See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that cliffhanger guys! Also I did mean to write and post this yesterday, but I needed a breather day and honestly, I think I wrote better for it. I really liked this chapter and I really liked how I utilized Theon in this story. He's a hoot! So this does continue right at the end of the previous chapter, so be ready for a performance by Sansa Stark for Jon Snow's viewing pleasure! Hehehe. 
> 
> Enjoy! ^_~

 

 

Her heart was like a thunderstorm inside her chest, beating so hard and rapidly that Sansa feared it would burst forth and flee. Her thoughts drifted back to her doorway, knowing Jon was there considering he had said her name again softly, pushing her door open just a bit. Sansa spread her legs out, tugging her nightgown up further then ghosted her hand down over her mound. She was shocked to find that she was already a bit wet as her fingers stroked through her folds, tracing the slit of her cunt.

The mere thought of Jon watching her set her skin on fire, heat blooming not only on her face but also her chest and burning a pathway down her spine and stomach. Sansa rolled her shoulders back, sighing pleasantly, still tracing up and down her slit as more and more slick came out. She heard the sharp intake of breath at her door, but there were no receding footsteps to be heard after, telling her that Jon had fled from her doorway. No, he was still there, probably shocked and rooted to his spot, much like she was weeks earlier.

Sansa smiled, dragging the tips of her fingers, wet from her entrance to circle her nub. Jolts of pleasure rang through her nerves, bringing forth a moan this time. The sound of shifting feet alerted her that Jon had noticed and was most likely flustered too. Her fingers circled and circled her nub, only briefly brushing against the fleshy button enough to make her sigh and hum.

A sense of wickedness came to her mind. Biting down on her lip, Sansa spread her legs apart even further, leaving no doubt that she was without her smallclothes and that her cousin could see her cunt almost perfectly from his prone station. The choke that followed only made her moan a bit louder. There was a thrill to knowing someone was watching her as she touched herself. A thrill that vibrated underneath her skin and warmed her insides, like coal to flames.

Knowing that Jon was watching her, his grey eyes taking in the way her fingers traveled up and down her sex, touching the slit to her entrance then circling the swollen nub hidden above. It made things more exciting, unpredictable and exhilarating. Is he liking it, she wondered? Would he like to touch her? A jolt ran through her at the very thought, imagining him coming into her room, seating himself on her bed then running his fingers on the inside of her thigh with his eyes focused entirely on what she was doing.

Sansa gasped, shuddering as she finally pressed her fingers on top of her nub. Hard, tight circles helped the pressure in her abdomen build. She forced her eyes open just a crack, looking over her heaving breasts to see the dark shadow that was her cousin Jon at her door. He had one hand gripping the door frame and she could make out a lone eye through the crack, heavy and watchful; eyes that never missed a thing.

She moved her fingers faster, rutting her hips up to create another kind of friction that only increased her pleasure and bringing her ever closer to a peak. I’ll call his name out, Sansa thought, I’ll say his name, so he knows I am thinking of him. Would he join her then? She didn’t know, but regardless everything seemed to be going to plan. Harder and harder, faster and faster. Her hand was burning from the hard work out, but she was so close to completion.

Her voice grew louder, hearing a whimper of a groan at her door. Closer and closer. Sansa imagined Jon hovering over her, his hand moving up from her inner thigh until he was tentatively tracing her slit himself. Feeling how warm and wet she was for him, feeling his roughed fingertips on her soft skin. He’d make sure he caught her eye, holding her gaze and then…then he would push his roughened fingertip in.

Sansa swallowed hard, her legs clamping shut in a loud snap as the edge of her peak finally neared. Her burning fingers rubbed ever harder and finally, her voice rang out, “Jon!”

Her peak wasn’t nearly as intense as her first one back in the godswood, but it was still a heavy hit of pleasure dancing through her nerve endings and veins. Heavy, powerful and addicting, Sansa could get use to it. She opened her eyes slowly, making sure she could see Jon and that he could see her watching him. They held gazes for a mere second, a moment where she could see the heat in his eye through the crack and then he was gone.

The heavy steps of his feet hastily leaving her door and down the hall jolted Sansa up from her bed. She quickly yanked her gown down over her legs, racing out of her bedchambers without bothering to grab a sleeping robe. By the time she started down the hall, Jon was already turning the corner. She knew he was heading back to his chambers, so she didn’t rush as quickly as she could have. Her thighs were wet, and her slick was rapidly cooling. It felt strange and slightly uncomfortable.

Jon’s chambers were further away from the rest of her siblings, alone in a rarely used section of the keep. Sansa never knew if that was his doing, or her mothers. Though Jon was the son of her late aunt Lyanna, her mother still feared he would try to take Winterfell from Robb. An unwarranted fear she believed considering how much her cousin cared for her brother, for all her siblings really. Still, that didn’t stop the strain between them.

His door came up quickly and she came to a halt in front of it. Sansa took a moment to gather herself, smoothing down her hair and checking to be sure her nightgown was on right before she knocked on his door. There was no noise on the other side, but she was not deterred and knocked twice then thrice. Finally, Sansa called out his name with a fourth knock.

Still, it was silent. Maybe he hadn’t retreated to his chambers? Maybe the godswood? Sansa pursed her lips together, taking a step back as she gazed at the wooden door. Had she gone too far? Fear started to grip her chest, icy cold and burrowing beneath her skin. Maybe Jon wasn’t interested; maybe he only preferred to imagine instead?

Maybe he hadn’t said her name and she was mistaken?

The thought that she had heard her own name for the sake of hoping and wishing brought tears to her eyes. They had only really started talking and interacting recently, Sansa had only just started to get to know Jon and find that she rather liked him; a lot. More than she ever thought she would, but it seems the feelings were not mutual and that was disheartening for her. Releasing a painful sigh, she closed her eyes to hold the tears at bay then proceeded to leave.

Sansa was nearing the corner when she heard a door open. “Sansa.” She stopped at the call of her name, her shoulders tensing as she realized she didn’t really know what to say to him now. Honestly, she hadn’t thought through that portion of her planning, believing she’d chicken out if she did. Now Sansa was regretting it. “Sansa,” Jon repeated.

She turned around to see him standing by his door, his eyes averting to the ground when they connected with hers for a moment. There was tension in the air, thick like fog settling around them. Sansa even found it hard to swallow, a thickness developing in her throat. There was a pull too, a tug that seemed to want to pull her closer to Jon. Maybe that was just her though, wanting to be near him and be touched by him.

Be brave, she thought, be brave.

Squaring her shoulders, Sansa moved her feet into motion. The closer she got to Jon, the more nervous she became. She wouldn’t let it stop her though. She halted once there was but a foot between them, his eyes still averted and his shoulders stiff. Sansa stared hard into his face, noting the redness of his flushing in his cheeks that traveled down his neck into his tunic.

“Jon,” Sansa said, waiting for him to finally connect eyes with her. “Did you like the show?”

The question burst forth without a thought to what she was saying. Jon’s mouth unhinged in shock, his face turning into quite the tomato. His reaction made her giggle, pressing a hand to her lips to keep it low. He stumbled over his words, glancing every which way while trying to grasp at syllables to form them together into a single word. That gave her courage though; it made her truly brave.

Sansa stepped closer until she was within his breathing space, gazing hotly into his eyes. “Have I left you speechless, Jon?” she ventured to ask, an impish smile gracing her lips. Jon scoffed but still said nothing. He didn’t have too though, the heat in his eyes said it all. She bit down on her lip, her mind racing, trying to think of what to do, but then she realized there was really only one thing to do.

Releasing her lip, Sansa stepped forward, bracing a hand on his shoulder then pressing her lips gently to his. Jon seemed to shiver at the sweet touch, leaning back slightly until their lips disconnected then he was plunging forward, pressing much harder upon her lips than she had. She felt his hands capture her lower back, keeping her in place as he all but devoured her lips in their kiss. Their mouths moving together, syncing into a dance of sweet kisses that made Sansa swoon on the inside. It felt so good, so soft and tantalizing, even the scruffs of his growing beard felt amazing to her.

Her hand on his shoulder crawled up his neck, smoothly gliding into his loose curly hair. It wasn’t as soft as hers, but to know that she was touching Jon’s hair as he kissed her with all his might was something she hadn’t known she needed until now. All her daydreams of this moment paled in comparison. None of them could hold even a glimmer of the lightness she felt as they kissed. Jon’s hands trailed up her back, tangling into her hair and tugging at it much like she was doing to his.

When she moaned though, it seemed to break the moment. Jon shuddered, wrenching his lips from hers and staggering backwards from her with deep breaths. His hair was mused around from her hand and his lips looked even fuller, swollen from their frenzied kiss. Sansa was sure she looked much the same and that thought brought to her attention the throbbing going on between her legs.

“We can’t, Sansa,” Jon said once he caught his breath.

“Why not?” Sansa asked, generally perplexed. What was so wrong wanting each other? She knew that they could never go further than kissing and touching, not unless they were to wed and why did the thought of marrying Jon make her even warmer and lighter than before?

“Because Sansa, you’re not for me…I’m sorry.” Jon did look sorry, his lips dropping ungracefully into a frown and pain evident in his eyes.

“Jon,” she mumbled, heart-wrenching when he closed his eyes painfully then turned around and entered his chambers, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Her eyes watered, staring at the empty spot he had been. How was she ‘not for him’ exactly? Was she not good enough? Or did Jon believe he wasn’t good enough? Sansa turned around to head back to her chambers, wanting nothing more than to bury herself in her furs and fill her pillow with tears. That had to be it though; Jon wasn’t one to think ill of his family as far as she knew. At least that didn’t seem like the Jon she knew.

Plopping her head on her pillow, she wallowed in a bit of misery for a time. Tears drenched her pillowcase as she wondered what exactly she could do. He said they can’t, but she thought they could. He believed he wasn’t good enough for her and she thought otherwise. Jon was exactly what her father had promised her when he first left Winterfell for King’s Landing. A betroth that was kind, gentle and strong and there was no man or boy Sansa knew that fit that description better than her bastard cousin.

Bastard cousin.

Sansa sighed sadly; there was the problem he was stating without truly saying. He was bastard born by her unwed aunt; he would gain no lands or titles through the Starks as he was a Snow. There wasn’t much he could provide a high lord’s daughter like herself. Sansa thought a bit about what it would be like, to marry Jon and find a home in Wintertown, or some other town. He would work a job, steelwork or something that had to do with his hands and what of her? What would Sansa do if she had too?

The thought was mind-boggling, but the first thing that came to mind was seamstress. She actually smiled when she thought about creating clothes for other women to wear, she was rather good from what Septa Mordane had told her many a time and she could make a pretty penny doing such a thing too.

She fell asleep not too long after, dreams of living like a peasant but with Jon and many children kept the nightmares at bay…

\-------------------------------

Sansa waved goodbye to her mother and father, smiling at the way Arya, Bran, and Rickon wiggled on their horses as they began to leave Winterfell. They were to go to King’s Landing for a few moons, dine with the royal family and explore the city for the first time. Sansa was supposed to go, she had been excited at the thought, but her mother kept worrying over leaving Robb in charge. It would be his first time running Winterfell as the Lord and it was slowly worrying her mother gray of him here alone with only Theon and Jon.

Though she truly wanted to see King’s Landing for the first time, to travel South and see the sights and possibly a tourney for the first time; Sansa decided to stay in the end though. She cited that it would be good for her to keep house as well, learning alongside her older brother and keep him in line as her mother had.

Her younger siblings weren’t happy about her decision and even her parents wished for her to reconsider, but she could see the relief of her staying lifting her mother’s tense shoulders and smoothing the creases in her father’s forehead. There would be other times, Sansa had said, shrugging as though it made no difference to her.

So here she was, standing beside Robb with Theon and Jon watching as they left. The moment her parents were out the door, Theon turned to Robb stating they should celebrate tonight as his first night as lord. Sansa was quick to nip that in the bud, stating his responsibilities as a stand-in for their father and mother. She was, of course, called a spoil-sport by Theon when Robb agreed then they left.

Sansa turned her sights on Jon, smiling softly at him, but he only gave her a tight smile in return then left her alone. It had been like that for the last fortnight since the incident in her chambers and afterward. Jon seemed to have taken a large step back from her, creating that awful distance they had once had years ago, and it hurt so much. She tried speaking to him, but Jon found ways of avoiding her and finding ways out of interacting with her too.

It made her angry once she got over her sadness and what made her angry only made her more determined. The more he tried to put distance between them, the more determined she became to close that distance entirely. Sansa was upset, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her either. She was stubborn like a mule her mother had stated once and like a mule when she got mad she started kicking.

Jon may have thought he wasn’t good enough for her, thought that she deserved better, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t unfeeling towards her either. Sansa realized this a few days into her and Robb running Winterfell when she asked Theon for help reaching for a ledger on the highest shelving in her father’s solar. Robb was working on finances since he was better at calculations than she was with Jon looking over his shoulder, but when Theon grabbed the book for her, placing his hand on her waist and giving her a sly smile as he handed it over, Sansa immediately noticed the look on Jon’s face as he watched them.

His eyebrow was ticking, his jaw locked, and his eyes narrowed upon them. He’s angry, Sansa thought, no, he’s jealous. Jon quickly ducked his head, concentrating on watching Robb’s writing rather than her and Theon. A plan was slowly hatching in her mind as she regarded him while looking through the ledger. A plan that might force Jon to truly confront his feelings for her and maybe act upon them.

Sansa glanced about the book then set it down for Robb before chasing after Theon out the door, hoping Jon noticed.

“Theon,” Sansa called out, stalling him down the hall until she caught up with him. “I have a favor to ask of you, a request actually.” Theon smiled broadly, arching a brow in amusement as he crossed his arms.

“And what would that be, my lady?”

“Well, this has to stay between me and you. You cannot tell Robb, you understand?” Sansa said tightly, stressing the importance of keeping Robb in the dark. Theon frowned at that, his shoulders tensing as he became more serious.

“What is it, Sansa?” he asked quietly, glancing back towards her father’s solar where Jon and Robb still were.

“I…I want you to help me make Jon jealous.” Theon’s face scrunched up in confusion, looking back at her with a queer look in his eyes.

“Why? You want him to do something for you?” Sansa pursed her lips together, her face flushing against her will. Understanding dawned on his face and with it that easy, charming smile he banished at will at all the women in Winterfell. “The bastard, Sansa, really? You have the Greyjoy heir standing in front of you, but you want the bastard cousin instead? I am shocked, truly.”

“Theon,” Sansa grinded out, frowning deeply as he went on with his theatrics. “Are you quite done?”

“Not really, but I’ll stop. My, my, my, I cannot believe it though.”

“Theon!” He laughed at her whine, raising his hands in surrender with a chuckle.

“Alright, alright, I’m at your service, my lady,” Theon stated cheekily, bowing at the waist to her. Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Thank you,” she huffed lightly, smiling at the end as she truly was grateful for his help.

“Have you thought of ways to get him jealous?” he inquired, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Not particularly, I was hoping you could help me.” Theon snapped his fingers as she finished, smirking devilishly with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’ve got it. After the mid-day meal, come down to the courtyard. Jon will be slashing away at the practice dummies and I’ll be working on my archery. There we will make him jealous.” Sansa frowned, not truly liking the idea, but her father’s ward seemed so confident that she decided not to voice her opposition.

“Okay.”

Nerves rattled her bones and churned her stomach, making it hard to eat during the mid-day meal. Robb was luckily preoccupied with Maester Luwin, eating and leaving just as quickly. Jon avoided eye contact, stuffing food into his mouth and Theon ate with an amused smile on his lips the entire time.

Jon was first to leave between the three and once Sansa was done trying to eat, she and Theon left for the courtyard. As the neared, Sansa couldn’t help but voice her worries. “Are you sure this will work, Theon? What exactly are we going to do?”

Theon waved her off, winking at one of the servant girls whom blushed and diverted her eyes as she passed. “Theon.”

“Stop badgering me, Stark. Everything will be fine, just follow my lead,” he assured, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before leading the way outside.

As Theon led the way, Sansa quickly located Jon slashing away at one of the dummy stands with a blunted sword. He glanced over at them, frowning at the sight of her walking with Theon before turning away to continue his swordsmanship. She swallowed, turning away as well to see what Theon was doing. He pulled out one of the bullseye targets, setting it up at a reasonable spot, an easy shot for him, she thought.

But when he approached her with a huge grin, hands outward with a bow and an arrow, she realized exactly what he intended for her to do. The answer was a resounding ‘NO’.

“Theon,” Sansa hissed, stepping back from him as he tried to hand them off to her. “No.”

“Yes, Stark. What better way than to get underneath Snow’s skin than to teach you archery? I’ll be standing close to you, directing you and touching you. If you don’t think he’s watching right now then you would be wrong,” Theon stated, a smirk on his lips and shaking the bow and arrow for her to take.

Reluctantly, she took both, internally groaning. Archery was one sport that her mother did not mind the girls learning. Sansa was shit at it while Arya, of course, flourished, becoming a better archer than the rest of their siblings and even on par with Theon. Dread filled her as she held the bow, she’d rather hit Theon with it than line up an arrow and make a fool out of herself. He gave her a look though and she sighed, knowing that he was doing what she asked, and she had asked for his ideas so…

Sansa notched up the arrow, remembering her father teaching her how to use the bow. Theon started talking like he was teaching her, reiterating what she could vaguely remember her father saying as he came up behind her. She tensed at the touch of his hands on her shoulders, but when he leaned in and told her to glance at the stables where the dummies were, she found Jon staring at them from afar.

Theon dropped his hands to her hips, directing her in a better stance then lining up her arms just right, including the shot. He told her to keep it as such and she’d at least hit the target if not near the bullseye. Sansa glanced back to see Jon still staring, more specifically at how close Theon was to her. She could almost see the pinched look of anger on his face, and even make out his hands balling into fists.

Directing her sights back on the target, she released the arrow, smiling when it did indeed hit just on the edge of the bullseye. She knew it was more Theon directing her shot, but it felt like a success to her, especially with Jon’s obvious jealousy. So, without thinking, she spun around and hugged her father’s ward. Turning her head just right, she could see Jon tossing his blunted sword at the dummy then stomping away and out of sight.

Now if only she could get him to stomp his way over to her and claim her instead…

Two weeks.

Two whole weeks, a fortnight of fake flirting with Theon to make Jon jealous. Her cousin was just as stubborn as she was. But she knew he was jealous and he didn’t like Theon touching her either. He regaled her with the story of how Jon had grabbed him by his collar, slamming him against the nearest wall and telling him to ‘back the fuck off Sansa’ before leaving him in a huff of rage.

Sansa would love to say Jon’s harsh and violent reaction repulsed her, but it didn’t. It actually made her blush deeply and feel so warm inside to know he was defending her honor, even if it was in a jealous rage. She just needed to push him a bit further, really get him to finally give in to her. As much as she was fake flirting with Theon, she was still trying to engage Jon in conversation as well, hoping he’d break at some point. Apparently, Jon was made of stronger stuff though.

Yet she realized her mistake in pushing him so harshly when Theon in his annoyance at Jon’s stubbornness decided to kiss her on the lips in front of him. Sansa reared back in shock, turning to Jon with wide eyes and the look on his face though. The saying ‘if looks could kill’ entered her mind as he glared heatedly at Theon, shaking like a leaf-no, like a wolf ready to attack its prey.

Instead, he bolted from the room. Sansa turned to Theon, throwing her hands out but he only shrugged at her. “Go on, Stark, go catch your bastard.”

Sansa turned away, chasing after Jon as he left the castle entirely. He didn’t know she knew about his spot and she knew he would go there too. She hated to invade his private spot, but they needed to talk, and she needed to come clean. The fake flirting was a strain on her end, especially when seeing how much it seemed to pain him too. No amount of faking was pushing him closer to her, actually, it seemed to be pushing him away.

She found him at the edge of the hot spring, pacing back and forth in his anger. She watched him for a moment, following him with her eyes before she stepped forward. It was late afternoon, supper would be ready soon and the evening sunlight was starting to recede in the sky, creating filtering lights and shadows between the canopy of the trees.

“Jon,” Sansa called out, seeing him freeze at hearing his name from her lips. He was extremely tense, looking ready to bolt again like a deer. “Jon, please, I am so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Sansa. I’m glad you found someone to make you…happy,” he grinded out the last word, chewing it up and spitting it out in distaste. Sansa shook her head at him.

“I don’t like Theon like that, I like you, Jon. You make me happy, not him.” Jon scoffed, looking at her in disbelief. Desperate to get him to believe her, she blurted out, “it was all a lie, Jon! Theon was helping me to make you jealous, so you would come to me, claim me for yourself.” Like I want to claim you, she thought sadly.

“What? You…flirted and flaunted in front of me…to make me jealous?” his voice grew darker and angrier as he comprehended her words. “Am I just a joke to you, my lady? Play with my emotions and laugh behind my back?”

“No! Are you even listening to me!? I want you, Jon! You and no one else!” Sansa stepped closer, seeing his emotions play at war on his face. “You said we can’t, but we can if only we want too! And I want too; I want you.”

“How can I believe you?” His question broke her heart as he regarded her with soft, vulnerable eyes. Swiftly though, they changed and hardened. “How can I believe you at all? I was right, Sansa, we can’t!”

“Because you’re not man enough to take what you want!” Sansa yelled angrily, so tired of him trying to take the easy way out. Anything worth having was meant to be fought for if he wanted her then he needed to grow a pair and fight for her.

“I’m not man enough?”

“No, I guess Theon is the only one who is,” she baited with a curl of her lip. Sansa turned away, aiming to leave him to stew in his anger.

“I’ll show you man enough, Sansa!” Jon growled, turning her around and claiming her lips in a bruising kiss.

He walked her backwards until she was pressed into the bark of a tree. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly as he forced her mouth open and swept his tongue inside. Sansa could do nothing but enjoy his attack on her mouth, tangling their tongues together as they aggressively kissed. His hands moved from her shoulders, roaming down her body, tracing along the curves of her breasts to her waist and hips then back up again.

Sansa moved to touch him, but Jon pushed away her hands. She gasped then moaned when he suddenly gripped the top of her bodice then wrenched it apart, ripping the seams and her shift underneath to bare her breasts to his sights. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and molding their softness in his roughened touch. Her nipples puckered and stiffened, begging for attention from him. She kept her hands against the tree bark, clawing for purchase as she was overwhelmed by Jon’s heat and desire.

His lips left hers, kissing down her cheek and jawline to her neck, sloping wet kisses to her collarbone then the top of her breast before encasing a puckered nipple within his mouth. Sansa cried out at the heat of his mouth and wet lashing of his tongue against her bud. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of his lips on her tongue and his mouth on her nipple. He suckled and licked, letting her breast go to suckle on her other while his hand flicked and pinched her wet nipple.

Her nub was throbbing between her legs, she could feel her smallclothes were drenched in her slick. She wished he’d bring his hand down there, touch her where she had imagined his touch for so many weeks now. Jon released her other nipple with a wet pop, blinking his eyes open to gazed heatedly into hers; it stole her breath away.

Jon licked his lips then abruptly dropped to his knees before her. Sansa opened her mouth though no words escaped as she watched him ruck up her skirts to her waist to reveal her wet smallclothes. He groaned at the sight and she whined when she felt something touch her through the fabric. Considering his hands were still holding up her skirts, it didn’t take Sansa long to realize he was lapping at her smallclothes with his tongue.

He eventually balled up her skirts in one hand and used the other to pull aside the fabric hiding her cunt then his tongue was stroking through her wet folds. Sansa gasped in shock, the sensation was strange yet exhilarating, she spread her legs further to make room for him. Her voice filled the air as Jon swiped his tongue through her folds, tracing her slit and even pushing inside. Her hips started to rut, it felt so good, but she needed him to touch her nub.

So, Sansa removed a hand from the tree, drifting it down pass where her skirts were balled up and tugged at the hood where her nub was hidden. Jon pulled back enough to see what she was doing, his eyes traveling up her body to connect gazes. His eyes remained on hers as he inched up then stuck his tongue out to lay the flat of it right against her swollen nub, taking a long drag upwards and flicking at the tip. Sansa whimpered at the jolt of pleasure, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from screaming.

Seeing her reaction, Jon drew his attention entirely on her nub. His tongue made long, dragging passes over it even licking up to her fingers where they stayed to reveal her nub to him. The pressure in her lower belly was building a lot quicker than ever before. Jon obviously became annoyed with her smallclothes for he stopped licking her long enough to rip them off her body, discarding them blindly before continuing his loving assault on her flesh and senses. A pressure at her slit made her realize his intentions just as he pushed the tip of his finger inside her.

It was becoming too much. The slow, dragging licks of his tongue on her nub along with his finger entering her body, pushing in then slowly out. The pressure was increasing and intensifying; she was nearing the edge of her peak. Jon seemed to know it too, possibly by how much of her slick was leaving her body, or how tense she was becoming, or maybe the longer she held her moans and the louder they grew. Regardless, he knew she was nearing and reacted accordingly.

Jon closed his mouth around her nub and sucked hard. Snapping like a string, Sansa tumbled over the edge with a cry of his name. She was practically singing his name through different renditions of moans and whines as he continued to suck on her nub and pump his finger in and out of her cunt. So focused on his task as he was, he drove her right into a second peak that shook her to her core. Sansa’s hand left the tree to bury into his curly hair, clutching him tightly as she quivered and shook.

He leaned back, gazing up at her like she was a goddess in his eyes. She lightly moaned when he removed his finger, taking the digit and sucking it into his mouth while he gazed at her.

The snap of a twig drew her attention away though. She was still catching her breath, barely able to say any words at all, but that didn’t stop the choke of ‘Robb’ from her lips as she took in her brother standing a few feet away, staring at them with wide eyes.

Jon turned away from her to see his cousin, releasing her skirts as he quickly stood. Before anyone said anything, Robb was running towards them. Sansa screamed his name as he slammed into Jon, knocking their cousin to the ground and clamoring on top of him, landing a solid punch to his cheek.

They rolled around on the ground, Jon trying to protect his face from the raining punches of Robb’s fists as he shouted obscenities at him. Sansa screamed Robb’s name, trying to get him to stop. Jon managed to get the upper hand, pushing Robb off of him to stand up. Her brother reacted quickly, coming to his feet as well. Wishing for the fighting to end, Sansa moved to shield Jon from her brother.

Everything happened so fast though.

There was a loud crack of his fist hitting skin. Pain burst forth on her face as she landed on the ground, air seemed to be knocked from her lungs. She felt a hand on her shoulder, hearing a deep voice saying her name and knowing it was Jon. White stars were flashing in front of her eyes and a ringing was in her ears.

As everything settled around them, Sansa realized then that Robb had accidentally punched her in the eye…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, Robb how ya gonna hit your sister like that? Poor Sansa, she just wants Jon and smut in her life, is that so hard to ask for? Apparently in my story it is. I like forward Sansa, go-getter, take no prisoners Sansa, lol. So, let me prepare you that the last chapter will be pretty long, possibly 10k, I think *looks back at plotline* oh yeah, definitely a 10k-er. That being said, it might not come out tomorrow but Monday, it all depends on how much I get written tomorrow and such. And sleep, sleep is the biggest factor in my writing because if I am tired I will fall asleep at my laptop and get a horrible kink in my neck and no one wants that. I don't and I hope y'all don't want me to have that either, unless you're evil...Anywho *fingers crossed* hopefully I will have the last chapter posted tomorrow! Let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


	3. We Shouldn't Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I ended up breaking this into two chapters instead because I got both lazy and tired. My brain was starting to shit on me, sadly. But here is the chapter for day 7 prompt and hopefully I can get the next one out then I am taking a bit of a break after pushing out so many pieces of work so rapidly, lol! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> And a big ole thank you to Becky!! Awesome chick to talk with and fix my awful spelling errors with a heart of gold! Thank you sweetness!! ^_~

 

 

Maester Luwin was frowning as he pressed the cold cloth to her swollen face, it felt so nice against her burning skin and throbbing eye socket. He placed her hand against the cloth, telling her to keep the cloth on her bruise to bring down the swelling. He looked her over once more then peered over to Robb standing by the hearth, glaring down into the flames. They had lied to the old maester, stating that Sansa had gotten hit by accident over Robb and Jon rough-housing. She could tell the old man didn’t quite believe what was told to him, but he didn’t question any further before leaving them alone.

Sansa had Robb’s cloak protectively covering the torn pieces of her dress, it was warm and a bit overbearing, kind of like her brother was being right now. He seemed to refuse to look at her, shamed by what he had accidentally done and angered by the sight he had come across in the godswood. Jon had left to his chambers when Robb made it clear he needed to stay away from her, dragging Sansa along to their father’s solar where he brought up the old maester to take care of her.

Now here they were, not talking. Sansa sighed, leveling her elbow on the writing desk to secure her hand over the cold cloth over her eye. She was fearful of what she looked like in the mirror. The hiss Maester Luwin gave upon seeing her face told her it wasn’t pretty; it definitely did not feel pretty. Her mind wandered as she waited for Robb to speak. She thought of Jon, the look of anguish in his expression as he looked over the damage her brother had unintentionally done to her. The phantom touch of his fingers ghosting over the spreading blemish on her skin made her shudder.

“You are forbidden from seeing Jon for now on, Sansa,” Robb finally said, twisting his body around to look at her pointedly. “You will be betrothed to another in several moons, someone whom can provide for you like a highborn lady such as yourself deserves and with a true name.”

“I don’t care,” Sansa utters quietly, averting her gaze down to the fire flickering in the hearth beside him.

“You should care. My gods, Sansa, what were you thinking?! Jon, our cousin! He’s a Snow, he can’t provide for you! What would mother and father think?” Robb questioned harshly, turning to face her fully with his brow furrowed into a glare and his lips downturned into a frown.

“I don’t care, Robb! He doesn’t have to have a proud name, he doesn’t need to be a high lord because I love him!” Sansa sucked in air on a gasp as Robb stumbles back from her words, staring at her disbelievingly.

“Take it back,” he grumbled heatedly, stepping forward in his anger.

Sansa shook her head ‘no’, pushing out of the chair she was seated in and with a jut of her chin she said proudly, “I love Jon and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

She could practically hear Robb’s teeth grinding together as seemed to search her eyes, trying to figure out why she was saying these words. Sansa stood tall though, realizing that she did indeed love Jon, not only as her family and cousin, but as a woman would love a man. As a wife would love a husband. As her mother loved her father. Jon deserved to be loved and cared for, Sansa could provide that to him even if that meant living less than what they were used to.

Nothing could deter her decision.

Robb brought his hand to rub at his forehead, bowing his head as he gathered his thoughts. She hated that she was putting such stress on her brother, but all she could think of was how much she had always done what was asked of her; always. Sansa could not bring up a time where she hadn’t done something her mother or siblings asked of her without question and for once she wanted something so much and here she was being told she couldn’t. It angered and upset her, made her want to stomp her feet and scream, but she didn’t.

“Please Robb, try to understand,” Sansa begged, shuffling forward. He looked up from his thoughts, a pained expression on his face as he took her in before he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and breathed harshly through his nose.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has too, Sansa, please.” Tears welled up in her eyes, when Robb noticed he glanced away.

“Robb…”

He walked to her, placing a hand at her back to drive her towards the door. Sansa frowned at his non-verbal actions, moving to fight against his strength. Eventually he grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her down the hall until they got to her bedchambers, leading her to her bed.

“We will talk once you have rested,” Robb stated gruffly, stalking over to her door before slamming it shut.

Sansa glared at the door, anger bubbling inside her stomach while tears rolled down her cheeks. Her swollen eye still hurt, but it was nothing compared to the heartache she was going through currently. She stared at the door, wishing Jon would open it and hold her. Sansa gave out a shuddering sigh, carefully placing the cold cloth against her face as she laid down on her pillow. Her legs curled up to her chest, covering herself with Robb’s cloak and wishing it was Jon’s instead.

Wishing that things were different.

It was growing dark in her chambers, the light outside growing dimmer and dimmer, darkening her chambers further. Sansa didn’t feel like getting up to light a few candles, or even start up a fire in her hearth. There was a knock on her door then it was opening to reveal Robb entering. She didn’t move to get up like a proper lady should, she remained in her prone position, curled up on her bed as she was. Her brother sighed, shutting the door firmly behind him before he approached her. She noticed he had some letters in his hands; three to be exact.

“These are three letters asking for your hand. Three men around our age that are better prospects for you to wed, Sansa,” Robb announced, holding them out to her though she made no move to receive them. After a moment, he sighed, setting them down on the nightstand beside her bed.

“What do you have against Jon, Robb? I thought he was like a brother to you,” Sansa asked, her voice thick and hoarse and dry.

“I do think of him as a brother and brothers shouldn’t want to fuck their sisters,” he commented sternly, his nose ticking in disgust before he pushed away the emotions in his face. Sansa’s eyes narrowed, scoffing at his words.

“Jon is not our real siblings, he’s our cousin,” she retorted.

“Mother and father would never approve of such a pairing; you and I know that.” Robb walked closer, drawing his hand down to lift the once cold cloth from her face to take in her bruised skin. His face grimaced upon sight before replacing the cloth once more. “Read the letters, weigh your options and make a decision by the time mother comes back in three moons.”

Sansa ignored Robb’s request, remaining silent in defiance. He looked sad as he peered down at her, like her refusal hurt him, but Sansa couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment.

“What about Jon?” she voiced her question quietly, her nails digging into her palms as she waited.

“He’s going to the Wall where his bastard status means nothing. He’ll leave once Uncle Benjen arrives in a moon or so.” She noted that Robb seemed sadden by that decision too. She wondered if that was his decision or Jon’s? Maybe both, maybe just Jon’s. Tears renewed in her eyes and when her brother realized she wasn’t going to say anything more, his shoulders slumped.

Robb turned his back to her, leaving without another word. Once he shut the door, Sansa reached over to swipe at the letters, knocking them to the floor to gather dust and dirt. She wanted to flip around to lay on her other side, but she knew it would be painful on that side of her face, so she flipped onto her back to stare at the canopy of her bed.

Her thoughts were scattered and blurry, jumping from topic to topic without really figuring anything out. Her heart ached with each heavy beat, her eyes stinging from tears, and a need so great, Sansa wondered how she could have survived this long without realizing it. Realizing how much she truly cared and loved Jon, how much she wanted him to be her one and only. No other man could compare; none. She only wanted Jon.

Realizing that she was only going to be hurting until she talked to him, Sansa forced herself to get up from her bed. She stumbled as she walked, straightening her legs out as she made her way to her door. She was surprised to find the door wasn’t barred shut from the outside, relieved really, since she wasn’t as good at picking locks as her sister was. She felt even more relieved when she found no one standing by her door either, making it easier for her to leave her chambers.

The walk to Jon’s chambers was silent, her heart feeling more at ease the closer she got to him. Standing before his door brought a sense of déjà vu of the last time she had stood here. She hoped she was better received this time than last time. Gathering her courage, Sansa lifted her hand and knocked on Jon’s door, waiting to hear his voice call out.

“Jon,” Sansa breathed out, knocking again with a heavier fist. “Jon, please answer me.”

“Go back to your chambers and rest, Sansa.” She heard him say through the door sullenly. He had to be on the other side of the door and she pressed up against it, wanting the wood to disappear so she could embrace him properly.

“I don’t want too, Jon. I want to see you.” She could practically hear his sigh as she pressed her ear to the wood.

“Go,” Jon uttered softly, almost painfully to her ears.

“Why? Why won’t you let me see you?” Sansa asked tearfully, her fingers pressing against and following the lines in the wood.

“You’re…you’re better off forgetting about me. I can’t provide for you like you deserve-I don’t care!” Sansa called out, slamming her hand against the door just as tears slipped down from the rim of her eyes. “You should! You would be making the biggest mistake of your life being with me!”

“You don’t truly believe that, do you? Tell me, Jon, tell me the truth!” She slammed the door with her palm again, her nails clawing against the wood to curl into her hand. If she could, she would break down the door and shake him. Her mind brought up the way he had looked at her after touching and kissing her between her thighs, the way he looked at her with such heat, lust and…love.

“Aye, I do. I believe that, and you should too,” Jon replied gruffly, the door shifting lightly by his weight against it. Only a few inches of thick wood kept them apart, and oh how Sansa wanted to make the wood splinter and break.

“No, you don’t. I know you, Jon Snow! The only biggest mistake I’ll make of my life is if I don’t fight for what I want, for who I love and that’s you! You; bastard status and all! I love you, Jon Snow!” Sansa bellowed into the wood grain, rubbing her cheek against it as more tears spilled from her eyes.

“Sansa, please,” Jon said hoarsely as though his throat was thick, as though he were holding his emotions at bay.

“Tell me I’m wrong then! Tell me you don’t love me too!” There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door to her words. She stayed prone, unmoving as she waited with bated breath for his answer, her heart feeling as though it was ready to wither up inside her chest.

“I do…” Jon said softly. Sansa whimpered, straining to hear his breathing through the wood. “I do love you, Sansa.”

With a shaky breath, Sansa said, “Prove it. If you truly love me then go to your spot at midnight, I’ll be waiting for you…”

It took tremendous strength to peel herself from the door, and even more to move a foot away without throwing herself against his door again. With a soft whisper of love, Sansa turned away and proceeded down the hall back to her chambers to change and dress her bruise up. She flinched upon seeing it in the mirror. It was dark, blackening with shades of blue and purple along the edges while her eye was black and rounded; swollen closed. She hated the way she looked, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now.

Sansa changed out of her ruined dress after discarding Robb’s cloak on her bed. She shuddered in realization that she never retrieved her smallclothes after Jon removed them from her body. Her face became heated as she thought about them laying somewhere on the ground in the godswood, maybe they were even floating in the hot spring. Thinking about it for a moment, Sansa eventually decided against wearing another pair, knowing if things went according to her plan then she’d not need them anyhow.

She changed into a nightgown, forgoing a dress for how late the hour would be and because she did not want to wear something that required help to put on and off, nor if Jon ruined them in his lustful excitement. On the edge of her mind though, lingered fear that he might not come to her, that he might stay put in his chambers, regardless if he loved her or not. Sansa didn’t want to acknowledge that possibility though, not after hearing Jon’s soft admittance to loving her and especially so after telling him to prove it by appearing.

If he didn’t appear…

Sansa pushed away the thoughts, brushing out her long hair instead and focusing on ridding the knots that had formed from the tussle she had gone through earlier. The solid strokes of the brush passing through her hair were soothing, distracting even, as she brushed her hair. The moon was half-full outside her window and as she watched it rise up in the sky, she could tell it was almost time to leave. Her nerves were bubbling inside her skin, but she willed away any anxiety that tried to take hold of her.

She just had to believe that Jon will show, hope and pray that he will be true to his words of love and show up as she had requested of him. It was hard though, trying to push away the anxious what-ifs that were edging around her mind, trying to distract her from her tasks. Eventually, her jittering nerves got the best of her and Sansa left early, tip-toeing her way through the keep and outside. She kept a small lantern in her hand, using her cloak to cover it up as she moved so no one could pinpoint her location out.

Luckily the half-full moon provided a good amount of lighting as she made her way through the godswood. Sansa took a moment to get down on her knees before the heart tree and pray that Jon would show and prove his love to her, pray that things would turn out okay and they could be together. She bowed her head until her chin was kissing the knuckles of her entwined fingers as she prayed. Once she was satisfied that her prays were heard by the old gods, she got up and made her way through the woods until she got to the edge of the hot spring where Jon took his privacy.

Sansa glanced around at the dark shadows and flashes of moonlight through the canopy overhead. She set her lantern on the ground, resisting the urge to shiver beneath her cloak. It was not so much from the coolness of the night, but eeriness of the woods this late at night. The wind blew, ruffling leaves and her cloak. It was a chilly wind, howling like a pack of wolves all around her. Through the rustling leaves overhead, she could see the half-full moon high in the sky; midnight.

The wait was almost paralyzing. Sansa shifted here and there, glancing around herself as it felt like time had slowed to nothing. A second was practically an hour in her mind. The longer she waited, the more apprehension came over her and the thought that maybe Jon wasn’t going to show started to rear its ugly head. It got to the point that she could not remain standing still, so she started pacing back and forth in front of the hot spring, her mind trying to tell her that Jon was not going to show while in her heart she believed he would.

Finally, she stopped at her lantern, turning her face up into the brief moonlight flowing through the leaves and branches above her. Sansa pinpointed that the moon had indeed moved quite a bit, meaning it had been many, many minutes of her pacing and waiting. Tears came to her eyes though she wished they wouldn’t, there was still time. Yet, really was there? Jon wasn’t here now, and he hadn’t come here earlier either like she had.

Jon’s not coming, Sansa thought sorrowfully, he’s not coming.

Her heart was breaking, she could feel the heaviness in her chest and could almost hear the cracking inside her heart. Jon must not have loved her as much as she loved him. Sansa sniffled, placing a hand on her breast to feel the painful thumps of her heart slowly breaking. With as much dignity as she could muster, she picked up her small lantern then turned to leave. She halted abruptly though when a dark shadow came forward.

Jon.

“Jon,” Sansa breathed out, taking him in as he came out of the shadows. He looked tired and sad and as he came closer she noticed there was redness in his eyes too.

Her hands shaking, she quickly set the lantern down then ran into his chest to wrap him in an embrace. Jon hardly hesitated before wrapping his arms around her, cradling her to his chest as she started to cry relieved tears. How could she have ever doubted him? Sansa should have known Jon would come, knew he’d fight himself on it but eventually he would break and come to her. Her hands clawed into his cloak as she rubbed her face into his leather jerkin. His hands smoothed up and down her back, keeping her against him, but not pinning her in place.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” Sansa admitted a moment later, pulling back to look up at Jon with watery eyes.

“I almost didn’t…but I couldn’t leave you all alone out here and I…I can’t deny what I feel or want.” His words filled her with warmth and invigorated her, her heart feeling much lighter and the breaking she had felt having stopped and slowly starting to heal.

Sansa peered up at him, smiling so much it hurt the bruising around her eye. Jon returned her smile with a smaller one. He moved a hand to the side of her face, lightly touching the edge of her bruising with a frown on his lips. “It’ll heal,” she mumbled, nuzzling into his roughened palm and ignoring the pings of pain as she did it.

“You shouldn’t have gotten in the way,” he stated, leaning down to press a soft kiss upon her brow. “Robb should have hit me, you shouldn’t have stepped in.” Sansa shook her head though, there was a cut on his right eyebrow, along with some bruising on his jaw by his ear that wasn’t covered with his beard and she was sure there was bruising on his chest too.

“It was an accident, and it doesn’t matter now,” she assured him.

Her eyes were drawn to his lips as his tongue came out to lick upon them. Sansa wanted to kiss him so badly. She wanted him to touch her again, she wanted to feel his tongue and lips on her body and wished to place hers on his. Jon sucked in airtightly through his mouth, probably from having witnessed the heat in her eyes. It was there in his eyes too, burning hot and consuming. “We shouldn’t,” Jon said quietly, the wind around them seeming to stop with bated breath.

Sansa licked at her own lips, feeling a jolt of pleasure run through her when his eyes followed the flick of her tongue wetting her lips. “We should,” she answered back, dragging a hand up to run her fingers through his strands.

Jon seemed ready to tell her ‘no’, to step back from her and put his foot down. Sansa had been so sure that he was going to move away, so much so that she was shocked when he leaned down to capture her lips in a sweet, soft kiss. His hand sliding down to hold the nape of her neck as he pressed his lips upon hers, swallowing her gasps before his tongue joined to taste her.

Sansa clawed at his back and hair, opening her mouth to taste his tongue as well. Hot, wet and spongy, she was drowning in Jon’s taste and his warmth. Her legs felt weakened by her desire while Jon was her boulder, standing tall and strong, holding her up as she trembled against his lips. The flashes of him kissing her before, suckling her breasts and kissing between her thighs, she wanted it again. She wanted him to place her upon the ground and show her how much he loved her, prove to Sansa once more that he truly loved her.

“Make love to me, Jon,” Sansa whispered against his lips, pulling back to gaze into those dark eyes of his. He blinked slowly, swallowing as she caressed the side of his face, repeating her words breathlessly, “make love to me, Jon.”

Sansa unclipped her cloak, allowing it to crumble to the ground. Jon stepped back as she bent down to situate her cloak before turning back to him. She smiled nervously, shivering at the chill of the wind blowing through them. He returned her smile then proceeded to work on the buttons to his jerkin. Seeing him starting to undress, Sansa moved to the buttons on her nightgown, her shaky fingers making it harder to push the buttons through the holes.

Seeing how Jon had already seen her breasts and her cunt, Sansa felt a sense of boldness as she tugged her nightgown up her legs then up her stomach before tossing it over her head onto her cloak. She watched as Jon halted in his movements, his tunic pulled up to his chin to be pulled off his body, but his eyes zeroed in on her nude form. His jaw unhinged as he took her in, his gaze trailing down then up then back down her body.

“Do you need help?” Sansa asked, biting down on her bottom lip with an arched brow. Jon coughed in his chest, tugging off his tunic to drop carelessly to the ground.

Sansa stepped up to him, stilling his fumbling fingers at the ties of his breeches. She glanced up at him then started pulling on the strings herself, pulling open his breeches then tugging them down his legs. She let him step out of his breeches, her eyes stuck on the sight of his smallclothes so close to her and the way they were bulged, straining to contain his erection. Sansa lightly ran her fingers along the bulge, heat streaking down her spine when Jon grunted and groaned at her touch.

Her fingers curled into the edges of his smallclothes, pulling them down his body like his breeches. Seeing his cock up close, the very thing that had seemingly sexually awakened her caused a tingling to flow through her veins. Sansa wrapped her hand around the shaft of his cock, gasping at the soft skin and hard muscle it encased. It was so strange, her hand tingled at touching his cock and she marveled at the way his skin moved along with her hand. Jon was groaning above her and that only transfixed her further as she explored his manhood.

“Sansa, sweet girl, you need to stop,” Jon groaned, his hand coming down to pry hers away.

“I don’t want too though,” Sansa said innocently, fluttering her lashes as she peered up at him. He groaned again, closing his hand tightly around hers until she removed it from his cock then he was dragging her up where he kissed her deeply.

Jon bit down on her bottom lip, tugging upon it as he pulled back slightly and releasing before coming back to devour her mouth further, caressing his tongue along the roof of her mouth then tangling with hers. Sansa pressed her heated body against his, marveling at the difference between them and loving the feeling of his naked, hot skin against hers. His cock pressed tenderly into her hip, leaving behind a tingly spot as they continued to kiss. His hands moved down her body, smoothing over her soft skin along her back and spine.

His hands grasping her butt made her moan into his mouth, whining when he started to knead her flesh. Her thighs pressed closer together, she could feel how moist she was down there and that only excited her further. Jon drew his lips down her chin to her neck, nibbling along the column of her neck as he pressed her into him. Sansa loved the feel of his skin underneath her palms and fingers, the hairs on his arms tickling her skin, his flesh hot and smooth with little bumps here and there from healed over scar tissue.

Sansa loved it all because it was Jon through and through. She moaned his name as he bit down on her shoulder. She moved her hands towards his chest, roaming the hard muscles there while he moved one hand off her butt cheek, giving her hip a squeeze before his fingers slid down over her mound, skimming between her folds. Jon groaned, mumbling about how wet she was for him.

His words sent a shiver down her spine and a jolt of pleasure through her cunt. Jon’s fingers traced her slit, brushing along her wet flesh then trailing back up to find her hidden nub. Sansa slid her hand underneath his arm to grasp the back of his shoulder as he circled two fingertips over top her nub, bringing forth more jolting pleasure. To distract her from the intense feeling, she kissed along his collarbone, running her tongue along the bone and muscle and skin. He twisted his hand around, pressing his thumb directly on her nub while he dipped a lone finger past her slit and into her body.

Her nails dug into his shoulder blade, whines and whimpers escaping her lips as he eased his finger in to his second knuckle then slowly back out. Jon repeated the pattern, caressing her soft inner walls upon each pass. “Is it good, Sansa?” Jon asked, dragging his lips back up to breath his question into her ear.

“Oh gods,” Sansa answered, moving her hips along with his hand.

“Oh gods? That good, sweet girl?” His breath tickled her ear along with the hairs of his beard as he nuzzled into the side of her head.

Sansa hummed with a tight nod, succumbing to the pleasure building inside her. Trails of her slick were sliding down her thighs, his finger pumping faster and harder than before. A gasp escaped her when he pushed a second finger in, her wetness allowing it so easily.

“Peak for me, sweet girl. I want to hear you call out my name again,” Jon requested softly, his thumb swirling against her nub harder and faster. She was so close too, that cliff edge coming upon her so quickly.

Jon licked along the rim of her ear then closed his mouth around her earlobe and sucked. Sansa cried out, his teeth dragging then tugging on her earlobe mixed with his pumping fingers and circling thumb.

Sansa never stood a chance.

Jon’s name rang out loudly through the empty godswood, dancing along with the shifting winds. Sansa quivered, clutching him tightly while his fingers continued to pump in and out of her cunt. He whispered sweet, loving words along with filthy, dirty words that left her breathless as he rung out every last bit of her release. When he finally dragged his fingers out of her, he brought them to his mouth, sucking each digit slowly while maintaining eye contact with her. She felt so empty without his fingers, so hot and empty.

“Make love to me, Jon,” Sansa reiterated, stepping back from him to get down on her cloak and nightgown. She heard him mumble her name and groan as the thought of how she wanted them to proceed made her giddy inside.

She wanted to see his face, but the thought that ran through her while she was on her knees on the ground made her hotter and her aching cunt to throb in want. Jon came down beside her, helping to place her on her back before Sansa shook her head at him. “I want you to make love to me like this,” she said sternly, turning her back to him to get on her hands and knees, presenting her lower lips to him.

“Sansa,” Jon growled, cursing underneath his breath. “Are you sure, sweet girl?” he asked after gathering himself again.

Sansa peered over her shoulder, lips curved in a smirk at the sight of him staring down hard at her butt cheeks and cunt. “We’re wolves, Jon.”

“Aye,” he agreed hotly, finally moving closer to her until his hips pressed against her butt cheeks and his cock was skimming through her hair on her mound.

Jon took a moment to stroke her back, his hands trailing down the curve of her lower back then up to her shoulders before drifting down to cup her hanging breasts. His fingers flicked her puckered nipples, pinching the erect buds then closing his hands around her breasts to squeeze them hard. “You have such lovely teats,” Jon whispered, giving her nipples another pinch each then he was leaning back again.

“Show me how much you love me, Jon,” Sansa demanded, pressing back into his hips.

She closed her other eye, relishing the feeling of his cock sliding underneath her. She felt him move back some, grabbing a hold of his cock then she shivered at the sweet touch of his cock’s head to the lips of her cunt. Sansa closed her teeth over her bottom lip, forcing her muscles to relax as Jon positioned himself behind her. His cock pushed slowly at her slit, pushing her flesh aside to find its way into her. It started to sting, muscles being forced to widen and stretch to accommodate the girth of Jon’s cock.

Sansa moaned, mostly in pain. Luckily Jon was going slow, stopping at practically every inch to allow her to adjust to the feeling of something so much bigger than his fingers inside her. She kept reminding herself that this was only going to hurt now, that soon it would start to feel amazing again. Fearing how coupling would be, Sansa had gone to her lady mother to ask far more personal questions that Septa Mordane could provide for her, especially considering the older woman had never coupled with anyone before because of her devotion to religion and the Seven.

Catelyn had seemed a tad uncomfortable speaking about such a thing with Sansa, but as they sat down in her bedchambers, she seemed to find her thoughts and speak openly with her daughter. She learned that there was pleasure to be had for women when coupling with their husbands, she also learned that it would only hurt the first time, maybe even the second and third, but afterwards it should only be pleasant. Catelyn’s face was bright red as she spoke these things, holding Sansa’s hand and telling her that they would make sure she was betrothed to someone who would make her happy, someone who would take care of her in all regards to a marriage.

She wondered if her mother had ever thought Sansa would be capable of doing this. Coupling before marriage to her bastard cousin. She supposed not. Jon sighed though it sounded more like a hiss through his mouth as his hips pressed flush against her butt cheeks as his cock settled fully inside her. She felt so full, stretched beyond belief and there were dull aches in her lower abdomen and cunt, but otherwise she felt great.

Jon took her maidenhead, she gave him her maiden’s gift. She peered over her shoulder to take in the expressions on his face. He looked to be in both pleasure and pain, his lips curving upward in pleasure, but his forehead and nose scrunched in reminiscent of pain. Sansa wondered how it felt for him inside her, how tight it must feel for him as she felt so full to the brim. She moved her hands about, settling her weigh onto one hand while her other came up to touch her lower belly where she felt like he was.

Her fingers moved down her mound to press there and Jon moaned at the movement, shifting back from her, causing a gasp to escape her lips at the feel of his cock dragging slightly out of her. Sansa took it upon herself to pull forward some then she was pushing back, impaling herself upon his cock and gasping louder at the mix of pain and pleasure. Jon seemed to get the indication to move, so he pulled back then slowly thrust forward.

Sansa brought her hand back to the ground to support her weigh; her fingers curled into her nightgown. The continuous pressure of Jon’s cock moving in and out of her was starting to feel better and better. There was still the edge of stretching and stinging, but otherwise, it had faded back to a lightly jolting pleasure that came from the caresses of his cock’s head and shaft thrusting into her soft, inner walls. Sansa mumbled his name, moaning her pleasure and pushing back to meet his forward thrusts.

Jon was grunting and groaning above her; his hands closed around her hips to pull her back and meet his plunging cock. “So good, so tight, so wet. Fuck, Sansa!” Jon muttered above her, his fingers bruising her hips as his soft thrusts transcended into punishing and pounding as he neared his peak.

One particularly hard thrust forced Sansa down to her elbows, her mouth hung open as she gasped and whined at his punishing pace. His pounding hips came harder and harder, Sansa could feel that pressure building inside of her. It was so beautiful and tantalizing. She cried out when Jon took it upon himself to finger her nub. “I want to feel you peak around me, Sansa,” Jon said huskily, rapidly rubbing three fingers upon her fleshy and swollen nub.

Sansa could do nothing but brace herself and take the pleasure he bestowed upon her. She turned her head to press her cheek against her nightgown and like a snap of her fingers, she was plunging over the edge of the cliff into the abyss. Jon groaned out her name at the tight feel of her fluttering cunt around his cock as she repeated his name on an endless loop. His thrusts slowed to smaller ruts then he stopped altogether, his hips flush against her butt. The thought that he had peaked inside her made her tremble and warmth to exude from her belly up to her chest.

Jon slowly pulled out of her, leaving her feeling empty and cold. He moved around her then laid down on her cloak, reaching out to tug her back to him, so her back was to his chest. His hot body pressed against hers, warming her against the cold winds as they regained their even breathing. Sansa intertwined their fingers, pulling it up to her chest and over her beating heart. She felt Jon press kisses against the back of her neck, moving up to kiss the rim of her ear before saying, “I love you, Sansa Stark. I will always love you.”

Her eyes watered against her will, she blinked rapidly to try and contain them from falling. “I love you, Jon Snow,” Sansa replied huskily, her throat seeming ready to close up on her as it became thick with emotion.

His fingers squeezed hers, mumbling sweet words in the back of her neck as they laid there. Sansa knew they’d have to get up soon, knew she would have to go back to her chambers alone without Jon, but it was hard to pull away from his warmth and touch. Her legs were tangled with his as well; she took it as a reason to stay put and enjoy the feeling of Jon all around her. Her thoughts eventually traveled from the beauty of their coupling to her brother and finally to the fact that Jon finished inside her.

It hadn’t seemed to come over him yet of the consequences of their actions, but Sansa figured she could get moon tea to fix that. A distressing aching thump echoed throughout her body at the thought though. I don’t want to do that though, Sansa thought shockingly, if we just created a baby then I want to keep it. She wondered what Jon would think of her thoughts. He would probably not be happy, she mused.

With everything that had gone on, Sansa was sure that Jon would not be pleased to hear of a baby between them. It would complicate things further, but then she didn’t really care. If it meant she could have Jon, then that was all that mattered to her in the end. Sansa wanted to talk to Jon more about it, about Robb saying that he would join the Night’s Watch and Uncle Benjen coming to escort him to the Wall, but she didn’t want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere between them.

Sansa closed her eyes instead and relished the feeling of Jon holding her tight; there was still time to ask about that later. Enjoy the peace now and deal with the chaos later….

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muhahahahaha!! And there you have it...mostly the end, but of course, as a completionist as I am, there will be more and I will hopefully finish the final chapter in a few days or so. I hope y'all enjoyed this update and please let me know whatcha think!? ^_~


End file.
